


Desperation

by RedwingRising



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:26:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26599027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedwingRising/pseuds/RedwingRising
Summary: As Dean watches Sam sleep, he thinks about his father's wishes. Set during Season 2 Episode 11 - Playthings
Kudos: 2





	Desperation

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Desperation](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/688975) by me. 



“Dean, you have to promise me.” Sam’s drunkenness only made his pleas sound more desperate.

Dean held out for another moment before he shook his head. “Alright, Sammy.”

Sam visibly relaxed his shoulders before flopping onto his side on the motel bed. “Thank you,” he muttered softly as he rolled over to bury his face in the pillow. His voice was muffled, but Dean got the message.

Dean sat back on his bed, processing recent events. When he had told his brother that Dad wanted him to kill Sam if necessary, Dean had assumed Sam would hit him. Instead, Sam left and almost got himself killed by another hunter. Even now, being back in the same space as Dean, Sam appeared to still be taking the news hard. Neither of them had been the same since Lafayette.

Dean felt torn between his loyalty to his father and his loyalty to Sam. If this was any other psychic, Dean would have no issue carrying out his father’s wishes and killing them, but this was Sam. There was nothing on God’s earth that would make Dean even think about killing Sam. Hell, even if Dad were still alive and screaming at Dean to do it, Dean wasn’t sure he’d be able to. The weight of the responsibility was just too great.

Dean began idly pacing around the room, careful not to wake Sam. The psychics they had encountered so far had proved lethal to people close to them and had to be put down. These psychics could be viewed as monsters, but killing a monster with a human face--a heartbeat, a corporal body, families of their own--was always harder than vampires or ghosts or whatever the hell else. Even so, this was Sam that Dean was thinking about. His brother. His family. The one whose life he has fought to save, and the one who has fought to save him.

“Life’s a bitch.” With another glance at his sleeping brother, Dean sighed bitterly before exiting the room in search of more whiskey.


End file.
